


The Happy Hatchling

by Gilli_ann



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Era, Domestic, Dragons, Episode: s04e04 Aithusa, Fluff, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:07:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25830316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilli_ann/pseuds/Gilli_ann
Summary: Raising an active and curious baby dragon is no easy task. Who will ultimately parent Aithusa?
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 151
Collections: Merlin Canon 2020





	The Happy Hatchling

**Author's Note:**

> While I know that the canon episode presents Aithusa as 'he', in this fic, which after all is an AU, Aithusa is female.
> 
> Certain lines of dialogue are borrowed directly from the episode 'Aithusa'.
> 
> Thank you to my lovely beta, Gwyllion.
> 
> Disclaimer: Merlin characters are the property of Shine TV and the BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

  
  
The chirping baby dragon flailed its tiny wings and looked up at Merlin. She was the cutest little being he had ever seen. His heart swelled with pride.

"A white dragon is, indeed, a rare thing... and fitting. For in the dragon tongue, you named her after the light of the sun. No dragon birth is without meaning," Kilgharrah intoned pompously, as cryptical as ever.

Merlin could only smile through tears of joy as the ancient dragon added, "Sometimes the meaning is hard to see, but this time I believe it is clear. The white dragon bodes well for Albion, for you and Arthur, and for the land that you will build together."

Aithusa chirped excitedly, rearing her small wings and seeming to want to get Merlin's attention. 

Finally, an unambiguously good omen! Reverently, Merlin sighed in gratitude and reached out. 

With a squeal of delight, the baby dragon jumped from the shattered shell of its egg and into Merlin's cupped hands. 

It was a magical moment. Merlin gently cradled the tiny being to his chest. "Welcome to the world, Aithusa." 

The hatchling chirped merrily in response, nuzzling his thumb.

"This is a sight that brings much delight, Merlin. I wish you every joy in rearing young Aithusa," Kilgharrah said, and rustled his wings, ready to take flight.

"What?" Merlin yelped. "I can't do it! How would I know what to do? _You_ have to raise her."

Kilgharrah reared back, affronted. "And why would I do that?"

"She's your own kind! Only you, in all the world, knows what a young dragon needs, how she must be safeguarded and cared for. There's no one else but you!"

The great dragon shook his head, dismissing Merlin's words. "You are wrong, young dragonlord. You summoned her into the world. You are as a father to her, you are her future and her lord, her very tie to life. This is your solemn responsibility."

Merlin felt horror swelling, even as he cradled the tiny dragon closer to his chest. "But I don't know what to feed her, how to protect her, where to keep her! I can't!"

"Neither can I," Kilgharrah huffed. "I have been alone all my life, passed from one dragonlord to his son many times over the long years. I have never raised a hatchling of my own, and now I am far too old to even contemplate taking on such a taxing obligation."

"But I don't have time for this!" Merlin was close to panic. "If I take her to Camelot, she will be discovered, and likely killed. She belongs with you. You must do it, Kilgharrah."

"I will not."

"Look how beautiful she is. Doesn't she fill you with hope and pride? You will surely enjoy raising her," Merlin wheedled. 

Aithusa flailed, suddenly agitated. Her small feet pushed against Merlin's palms as the hatchling emitted a piercing cry.

"You are her dragonlord. She is yours, and she obviously knows it," Kilgharrah replied dismissively.

"I could order you to do it. You'd have to obey."

"Indeed, you could. And how did it go, last time you ordered me to go against my strong advice? Was I not right to object? Have you learned nothing?"

"This is entirely different," Merlin insisted, although he had to acknowledge that he was standing on insecure ground. "Aithusa is your kind. You would know best what she needs to thrive and grow."

"Have you ever seen any sign of a gentle nurturer in me, Merlin?"

"Not exactly, no." Merlin nearly had to laugh at this preposterous question. The term 'nurture' had never entered his mind in his dealings with the great dragon. "You're more of a grouchy, cryptic, manipulating curmudgeon, irked and bothered by every one of my requests."

Kilgharrah reared back, mightily offended. "And how would you yourself have behaved, having seen all your kind die, before being chained up alone in a dark cave?"

Merlin sighed, admitting defeat. "This is getting us nowhere. Very well. There is a bond between me and the little one. I'll do my best."

"I know you will, Merlin. Aithusa is part of your destiny, yours and Arthur's. The white dragon bodes well for Albion and for the land that you two will build together."

Merlin frowned. "You already mentioned that."

Towering for one more moment over Merlin and the baby dragon, Kilgharrah merely said, "I wish you the best of luck." There was relief in his gravelly voice. He spread his wings, ready for takeoff. Then the Great Dragon was gone, the heavy beat of his wings soon losing itself to the dark night's quiet.

Merlin stood for a while deep in thought, processing the surprising developments. Why did every difficult task always fall to him? 

Eventually, he roused himself and turned back towards Camelot, the dragon hatchling still held safely in his arms. "Very well, little one, named for sunlight. Seems you're coming home with me. Do you like breakfast sausages, I wonder?"

Aithusa chirped happily.

* * * * *

Gaius's eyebrow shot up so far that it nearly took flight. "Merlin, what on earth?"

Once released from Merlin's tight grip, Aithusa bounced from table to chair and back to table, her tail swingling merrily. Sampling the taste of Gaius's medicinal herbs along the way, she chattered excitedly and flexed her small wings.

Merlin ran after her to scoop the little dragon up and out of harm's way. "Kilgharrah refuses to look after her, and I can't just leave her out in the woods on her own."

"But you can't keep her here!"

Merlin sat down, suddenly feeling endlessly tired. "Where else, then? Who can I entrust her to, Gaius? I am her dragon-lord, and I feel our bond forming already. It's my obligation to take care of her and keep her from harm."

Aithusa rubbed her face against the back of Merlin's hand and crooned. Merlin smiled down at her and gently stroked her ridged spine with one finger.

Gaius relented. "I see that you are fond of her, and she is unique, a true wonder," he conceded. "She may remain here for a little, while she's this small. But she can't roam free. Perhaps we should get a big bird-cage where she can stay when you're away?"

Aithusa turned against Gaius and made a completely new sound, almost like a hiss. 

"Aithusa," Merlin said sternly. "Behave!"

"I'm going back to bed," Gaius said, shaking his head. "If you want your new dragon to live, if you don't want to be accused of being a sorcerer who keeps dangerous magical creatures as pets, you have to find a foolproof way to keep Aithusa safe and out of sight. It's as simple as that."

* * * * *

But of course, it was anything but simple. It was an endless struggle.

Aithusa was lively and curious, and very smart. She found new ways to escape the cage and Merlin's room every day. She slithered out of windows to sit on the roof-tiles and stretch her wings in the sun, or hid behind the clutter atop Gaius's tall bookshelves. Occasionally she managed to follow Merlin all the way down to the yard. She could be silent and stealthy, but would chirp loudly at the most inopportune moments. 

Merlin was running himself ragged looking after her. It was a daily challenge to conceal her true nature.

"What is that thing, Merlin?" the guardsmen would ask, as Merlin grabbed the dragon and began stuffing the squealing little reptile unceremoniously into his knapsack. 

"It's just a cat. Poor thing, it's all malformed and no one wants it, but I can't let it starve," Merlin would answer, hurrying away. 

"But it sounds like a bird," they would call, as Aithusa, the little scoundrel, let loose a peal of merrily trilling notes.

A few times, Merlin had to take the dragon outside of the castle and speak to her severely in dragon-speech. Aithusa cowered before his angry admonishments, and promised to behave, but she was only a hatchling. One sniff of the meat being roasted for the royal dinners, and she would forget everything she'd ever promised about being a good, little dragon.

Merlin dreaded the day when she would learn to fly. There would be no stopping her then, unless he chained her with iron. The memory of Kilgharrah's rattling chain in the dark cavern filled Merlin with dread. But he'd have no other choice. 

He forgot that his bond to Aithusa was strengthening. She hadn't learned to speak yet, but she understood his mind, and she didn't want to be chained up.

Aithusa practiced her flying on the sly.

* * * * *

Somehow, to Merlin's great relief, Arthur had not found out about Merlin's strange cat. Somehow, Aithusa was still a secret.

But of course, that was too good to last.

One morning, as Merlin entered Arthur's chambers to bring the king his hearty breakfast, Arthur rolled over in bed, sat up, blinked, and asked: "What on earth is that?"

Merlin followed Arthur's line of sight, and his heart sank.

Aithusa was hovering right above his head, her small wings keeping her airborne with ease.

"It's a bird," Merlin squeaked. "A very, very rare sort of bird. It locates and eats woodworms. It wants nothing else. I just acquired it."

Aithusa had her eyes and her whole mind set on Arthur's breakfast sausages on the plate Merlin hadn't yet managed to let go of. Suddenly she swooped down, hunting the food, and Merlin had to swat her away. "Behave yourself. Bad bird!"

"Are you really on about woodworms again? This is getting ridiculous, Merlin."

"I am certain there's an infestation. It must be stopped!" Merlin dropped the breakfast tray on the table with a bang and jumped, trying to grab Aithusa in mid-flight, but she veered out of reach. Landing on one of the bedposts, she released a couple of shrill cries of protest in his direction. She had really had her mind set on that sausage.

Merlin was distraught. 

"You really are a fool, arent you, Merlin? Whoever you got this creature from, they clearly took advantage of your obsession with woodworms, and conned you. That's no bird. It's got four feet and a snout. And a long tail. And it flies. It's a baby dragon."

Merlin panicked. "What? No, Arthur, it's not! Honestly, it's a bird, just very exotic. You can ask Gaius if you don't believe—"

"It's a dragon. Use your eyes."

"But, but, the dragons, they're all dead," Merlin cried in desperation. He felt sweat droplets sliding down his neck as he raised a hand, beckoning Aithusa. "Birdie, birdie, come here, come."

Aithusa just glared at him. He sensed that she didn't appreciate being downgraded to a mere worm-hunting, misshapen bird.

"Are you blind? Arthur scoffed. "This has to be the dragon that Borden fellow was after. It must have hatched just as the Tomb of Ashkanar fell."

"But - the woodworms..."

Arthur got out of bed, walked over to the table, and helped himself to one of the cooling sausages. He held it aloft, wriggling it in Aithusa's direction. 

With a whoop of delight, emitting a small puff of smoke, Aithusa swooped from her perch and grasped the proffered food. 

Merlin was dizzy and out of ideas. He could barely keep on his feet. 

Arthur looked very smug. "I know, it doesn't feel good realizing you've been taken for a ride. You really ought to try using your brain sometimes, Merlin. Haven't you seen the Pendragon crest? When this little one grows its wings out fully, it'll look just like it."

"But - the woodworms..." Merlin pulled up a chair and sat. 

Aithusa meticulously devoured the sausage, tearing into it with her baby teeth, nattering contentedly between every gulp of food.

Arthur followed suit, and scooped some ham and bread into his mouth, chewing vigorously. He contemplated the baby dragon as he ate his own breakfast. "It's very small. Not a monster at all. I wonder how fast they grow?"

"I still think it's a bird," Merlin protested weakly. He didn't know what else to say, although he was surprised by Arthur's reaction. 

"I reckon they must grow very slowly," Arthur continued, as if Merlin hadn't spoken. "The big dragon, the one that nearly burned the castle down before I killed it, supposedly was many hundred years old. I wish that the dragonlord, Balinor, hadn't died. He could have told us more."

Merlin let out a deep sigh. "If it is a dragon, I suppose it falls on me to get rid of it safely. I'll see about that at once."

"Pity," Arthur responded, noncommittally. 

"Yes," Merlin said, glancing at him.

Aithusa launched herself into the air, belly full and heart happy. A few beats of her wings, a sharp turn in mid-air, and she glided to land on the table right in front of Arthur.

"This has to be the very last dragon in the world," Arthur mused, studying the tiny creature. "I know it's magical and dangerous, but it's also quite intriguing. Not to mention, entirely endearing."

Cocking her head, Aithusa looked up at him and skipped closer, chirping placatingly. She was within easy reach now of Arthur's grasp, the quick hands of one of the most formidable hunters in Camelot. Arthur had wrung many a bird's neck in his time.

Merlin's fingers twitched, and he held his breath, but he didn't move. There was something in the air, some sense of rightness rather than menace. The white dragon was a good omen, Kilgharrah had said. Something for him and Arthur to bond over. 

Merlin waited.

Arthur reached out. Without hesitation, Aithusa jumped to perch on the king's arm. She flapped her wings once before settling, and looked into Arthur's eyes.

"I think we'll keep her, just for a bit," Arthur said, his voice soft. "It's a sweet little thing. Quite manageable, for now. When it gets too big or starts breathing flames and going after the livestock, well...."

Merlin could hardly believe his ears. 

Arthur laughed. "Oh, don't sit there gaping with the vacant eyes of a dying dormouse! Can't a Pendragon keep a dragon? Don't you look forward to helping me care for it? Won't it be delightful, removing its poop and chasing it around?"

"Well, if you do indeed want me to, Sire, then of course I will—"

"Now, since it's staying with us, I suppose our little dragon needs a name? What should we call her?"

Aithusa spread her wings and opened her beak-like snout. It looked as if she was grinning. She made a sound like a sneeze, and then she spoke her very first word in a curious mix of a hiss and a giggle. "Aithusa."

  


** The End **


End file.
